


Let The Waves Up And Take Me Down

by Mystrana



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Jean flashs back to when Riko waterboarded him, M/M, Panic Attacks, Riko is beyond the worst, Trauma, he's going to be ok though, it's not a good time, working through past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrana/pseuds/Mystrana
Summary: A year out from his time in the Nest, Jean's finally starting to conquer some of his fears and triggers. Jeremy's determined--and patient enough--to not only get him to the beach, but to help him enjoy it, too. Unfortunately, all it takes is one errant wave to drag Jean back into painful memories...
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Let The Waves Up And Take Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I was reading the extra content on tumblr and came across the fact that Riko had waterboarded Jean. Clearly the next step was to write this fic in which Jean tries to get past his fear of being in the ocean with Jeremy at his side. Blame [ Coop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop) for it. ;P But also thank her for beta-ing this and making sure I didn't write "waves" six hundred times in a row.
> 
> Title is from Into The Ocean by Blue October

The first day of April was gorgeous; the sun high in the sky, the clouds puffy white and inviting, and the waves crashing playfully on the shore, inviting all to come frolick.It took the better part of a year to get Jean to the beach. He wouldn't say anything besides "I don't like water," and Jeremy had no reason to force him. Today, Jeremy had loaded up the team van with everyone who wanted an afternoon at the beach, and Jean had sat right behind him, eyes down the whole ride, silent.

He’d made it to the very start of the sand before stopping, staring out at the vast, endless blue of the ocean. He refused to take a step closer. Jeremy didn’t say anything, just smiled and set up an umbrella at the edge of the beach and spread a towel underneath for Jean to sit on.

“Thank you,” Jean said, his voice soft and low.

Jeremy grinned. “You need anything, you let me know, ok? I’m gonna enjoy the waves for now.”

Jean nodded. He watched his teammates shed their cover ups and sandals before splashing into the surf, and only just managed to suppress a shudder when Jeremy dove under one of the crashing waves. He forced himself to watch the dark water until Jeremy resurfaced.

Heaving a quiet sigh, Jean pulled out a book, and spent the rest of the afternoon reading to the rhythm of the water. By the time everyone else came out of the water ready for dinner, he’d admitted to himself that even if he had no intention of ever joining them, the constant pulse of the ocean was almost soothing.

Next weekend, the group headed back to the beach. Jeremy smiled when Jean took a few tentative steps into the sand, and he set up the umbrella and blanket two feet closer to the water than last week. 

“Does it bother you when I’m in the water?” he asked. “I can keep you company; I don’t mind.”

Jean shook his head. The year at USC along with very intensive therapy had given him the ability to speak what was on his mind at least thirty percent of the time. This was one of those times. “I just don’t like watching you dive under the water,” he admitted, bowing his head to cover the way heat rose in his cheeks. He chewed at his lower lip.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Jeremy said, a gentle hand on Jean’s shoulder. “I can always come back and swim under the water whenever I want. You’re here with me now, and I appreciate that. I won’t go under today”

Jean’s tiny smile only made its way to the edge of his lips, but it was there nonetheless. “Thank you.”

Jeremy’s grin was as bright as the sun. “Call me back up if you want company!” he called as he joined their other teammates in the surf.

The afternoon went by as Jean read the next several chapters of his book.

It went like that for awhile; weekly beach trips and weekly umbrellas, each time just a little closer to the water. Jeremy knew Jean was working hard with his therapist in between to try to stay on top of his fears, and it showed; by June, Jeremy rode to the beach with his swim trunks on. While the others played in the water--there was Laila shrieking in joy as Alvarez splashed her--Jean and Jeremy sat on the shore, waves lapping at their bare feet, fingers intertwined.

“You’ve got a bit of sunblock still on your ear,” Jeremy noted. “Mind if I get that for you?”

Jean nodded. “Go ahead.”

Jeremy reached over and rubbed in the sunblock until it was the same pale shade as Jean’s skin. Some things would probably never change, he knew, but pale was fine; more importantly, Jean didn’t look nearly as sickly as he had those first few weeks with the team. 

“Alvarez, I swear--” Laila’s voice carried over the waves, and even Jean smiled when he looked up to see Alvarez carrying Laila in a fireman’s hold up the beach.

“Maybe it’s time to try,” Jean said after a minute.

Jeremy turned to face him, to study his face intently. “If you’re ready, absolutely. But there’s no rush. The beach will be here.”

“I know.”

Jean stared out at the ocean. The waves were calm and gentle, just little peaks that foamed as they crested on the shore. He’d been watching the waves for weeks now and knew this was as smooth as the water got. Even still, as he rose to contemplate the first step, Jean froze, his brain working overtime to shout warnings.

Jeremy grabbed his hand, a thankfully warm and solid presence. Alvarez and Laila were still shouting off in the distance, and their other teammates were busy making some sort of sandcastle. No one was paying any attention, and Jean was thankful. He didn’t need them to celebrate his baby steps into the surf.

The little squeeze Jeremy gave his hand was a welcome distraction, though. Together, Jean breathing with each step, they shuffled deeper and deeper into the water. The waves pulled at them as they went in, inviting them to come in further and then retreating back to give them space.

The ocean was sun-warmed and something about being surrounded by water was almost, almost, almost relaxing. Jean didn’t dare close his eyes, though. Warily, he stared into the distance, watching for an errant wave. When none came, they waded up to his waist.

Wet sand beneath Jean’s toes was such a pleasant, different experience from the never ending dryness of the Nest. The buoyant saltwater buffeted him with each tiny swell of a wave, time after time, until it was as relaxing as a massage. Jean assumed the last bit; the closest he’d ever been to a massage was the Raven’s physical therapist brutally foam-rolling his muscles after a rough practice.

Here though, holding Jeremy’s hand and looking at the crystalline sparkle in his eyes that matched the sun glinting off the water, Jean finally relaxed, some of the tension in his shoulders and jaw evaporating away.

Jean saw, rather than heard, Jeremy’s sudden shout; he realized too late he’d turned from watching the waves and rushed to see the height of the wave behind them.

Too late.

Water crashed over their heads and in an instant, the sudden, heavy presence of water on his face dragged Jean back to the Nest, back into Riko’s willing and vicious grip. He was on his back, he was upside down, which way was up? Riko was snarling something in his ear unintelligible through the blur of water. Darkness surrounded him.

Water poured into his nose and mouth, choking him. Jean flailed to break the surface, unable to find his feet, unable to find  _ up _ , everything around him was breathless fear, and he gasped, choking on the water that filled his lungs and if he could just breath, if he could just open his eyes and push off the cloth that was covering his face and push past Riko, he could 

breathe.

He couldn’t breathe. His gasps became frantic mouthfuls of water. Jean’s legs refused to coordinate with his arms, his brain was too focused on the lack of air in his lungs, on the heavy press of water rushing into and around every part of his body, leaving him sinking like a stone, or floating, or falling.

Riko’s hands reached to push him down farther, and Jean shook, desperate to gasp, desperate to have air, just a little bit of air, he could do anything if he could just get air in his lungs, but every time he opened his mouth, more water rushed in, an impossible weight on his chest and Jean’s vision went white with fear, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he just needed 

air.

His world blessedly went black.

~

When Jean came to, he was sprawled on the sand, covered in towels and shaking. 

“Give him space,” someone said, someone whose voice he should recognize, someone whose voice wasn’t edges and knives pressed down his throat.

There were some other voices, some flashes of words, “thank god Alvarez saw,” “took everyone to get him in,” “he’s… going to be ok?”

Jean coughed, his muscles spasming in his chest. Every bit of his lungs hurt, like they’d been shredded from the inside. The cough didn’t stop; it wrenched itself through his body like a vice and he retched, unable to bring up any more water.

“Hey, Jean,” the voice said, a voice of solid golden sunshine. “We’re right here, ok? We’re on the sand. I’m so sorry.”

An experimental attempt at a nod left Jean coughing again. 

“We’re probably going to need to get you checked out at the hospital, ok?” Jeremy continued, in a low, soothing voice. “I’m so sorry.”

Jean settled for lying very, very still. The waves kept crashing onto the sand behind them, a constant murmur. 

He was surprised to find he didn’t mind the sound.

“I’ll stay here with him awhile longer,” Jeremy said, and there was a sound like several people shifting and moving away. Jean didn’t dare open his eyes to look.

They sat there, quiet and unmoving while the late afternoon sun beat down on them, slowly bringing warmth and blessed solidity to his body. It could have been minutes, or hours, when Jean finally started to move his hands and feet, turned his head to the side without coughing.

The sun had moved significantly to the west, but no one seemed concerned about the time as Jean struggled into a sitting position. Jeremy was close by, a hand ready if needed, and a drink in his other hand.

“Just a sip, if you can,” Jeremy offered. “Ironic, I know, but…” He trailed off, unable to find the words to make the situation better.

Jean was just thankful he could nod without a burst of pain. “I’m sorry I fought so hard,” he apologized, the rough salt evident in his gravelly voice. 

“Oh, no, no,” Jeremy said, pressing the drink in Jean’s hand and using both of his hands to cup Jean’s face. Even then, Jeremy stayed back at arm’s length, cautious to not crowd Jean. “Please don’t apologize for that. Never apologize for trying to protect yourself.”

Jean wanted to tell him it didn’t matter, but a part of him, some small piece of his heart, buried so deep in the dark recesses of his scarred chest that he didn’t dare believe it existed, burned with a fierce, terrifying amount of  _ acceptance _ .

He sucked in a breath so deep and sudden that he started coughing again, leaving Jeremy to force the straw between Jean’s lips. Jean took a sip, his breathing evening out again.

The fresh water was smooth and more refreshing than it had any right to be. 

“Thank you,” Jean said, the words not nearly enough to convey every emotion he was feeling right now.

Somehow, it seemed like Jeremy understood. He wrapped an arm around Jean’s shoulders, and held him close.

Together, they watched the waves pounding against the beach. Jeremy’s apology was in the tightness of his grip on Jean’s shoulder. 

For the moment, this was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
